


with a broken heart (that’s still beating)

by tfm



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Non-Explicit Sex, Soul Bond, Soul-Crushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28190373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: CR Secret Santa gift for SweaterOfTears, and the prompt: "soulmate AU’s, angst, hurt/comfort. I love having my heart ripped out and stomped on then lovingly placed back in my chest."Or, Beau and Yasha are soulmates, and it takes them a bit to figure out what they want to do with that information.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 12
Kudos: 232





	with a broken heart (that’s still beating)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CanKarmaWrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanKarmaWrite/gifts).



> Fic warnings:
> 
> This story deals very heavily with grief, and loss, and feeling that grief and loss. I don't think I pulled any punches, so if that's something that's going to affect you, please be forewarned.
> 
> There is a conversation to be had about the ethics of what people do knowing that their soulmate can feel it, but this isn't that story.

with a broken heart (that’s still beating)

Pain was an old friend.

Pain was something that Beauregard Lionett had felt from the day she was born. The pain of breaking her arm when she fell out of a tree, the pain of getting punched in the fact, the pain of her parents setting her up to get kidnapped and go and live in a monastery.

The other pain – the mirrored pain – was always a little different, but hurt no less. It didn’t come straight away. It never did. Most people generally went up until about puberty before finding out that they had a soulmate. For Beau, she had been sixteen years old, and already resigned to the fact that she probably didn’t have one. Then, she felt the twinge of heartache that didn’t belong to her, felt the beat of someone else’s heart, and she knew that she was not alone.

Whoever her soulmate was didn’t exactly lead a carefree life. More than once, Beauregard woke in the middle of the night, from a pain in her gut like a knife had been pierced there, or a slashing wound across her back, or the wallop of something across the back of her head.

But then sometimes Beau felt other things, too.  That ache in her chest, like she was falling in love. What that really told her, though, was that her soulmate was falling in love with someone other than her, like she was a mere footnote in someone else’s existence.

Admittedly, though, it wasn’t like Beau didn’t have crushes, though it did take her a while to figure out what that feeling actually was. The smile on her face whenever she saw them, that  _thump, thump, thump_ of her heart. The fact that they made her feel far more comfortable than any of her family ever did.

Beau hadn’t expected to get that feeling with the pretty, dark-haired chef who made the hor d’oeuvres for her father’s fancy parties, or with the wild-eyed thief that picked her pocket at the bar. The thief, Tori, she had admittedly gone on to have a pretty spectacular relationship with (betrayal and arrest aside), but from the moment one of them had gotten punched in a bar fight, it had been pretty clear that they weren’t soulmates.

Still, no reason not to have some fun. Her soulmate was out there doing the same thing, after all. The weird part – the hot part? – was that Beau absolutely felt it every time her soulmate...well, had a particularly good time. For a while it seemed to become something of a  competition. Beau and Tori fucked five times in one day after Beau’s soulmate had had a particularly fun evening that sent Beau running from the dinner table,  her face flushed .

Over the years, though, that had lessened somewhat. After what Beau referred to in her head as “the bad fucking time,” her soulmate had seemed to settle down a little. There were fewer fights, and fewer fucks. Not that Beau was complaining too much, though she did feel a little bad that her daily “getting the shit kicked out of her by monks” was probably still getting mirrored. 

There was something else there, though, a feeling that Beau had never quite felt before, that her soulmate seemed to be experiencing. That all-consuming warmth and contentment of having been loved and welcomed into a group.

It was a feeling that shadowed Beau until she arrived in Trostenwald, and ran into a bubbly tiefling, and a drawling half-orc.

Beau wondered if one of  _them_ was her soulmate.

Almost definitely not the half-orc. Even if she did still think she was into dudes, he wasn’t exactly her type. He didn’t look like he’d be able to top his way out of a paper bag, for one thing.  But the soulmate connection wasn’t really one to discriminate based on attraction. In fact, though it was in the common vernacular, Beau was pretty sure she disagreed with the term on principle.

On the other hand, the tiefling was pretty cute. Purple eyes, freckles, and a tail that swished back and forth like a pendulum. It took exactly one conversation for Beau to figure out that Jester Lavorre had never been in a romantic (or a sexual) relationship, let alone one that had Beau buy a leather strap to bite down on whenever her soulmate was feeling particularly horny. It had been at least a couple of years since Beau had had to use it. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.  Feelings of happiness and  contentment replaced by grief and sadness.

Her soulmate had lost someone.

Beau didn’t even stop to consider if the scruffy wizard or the goblin was her soulmate. Neither of them particularly looked like they could fight up close and personal the way Beau’s soulmate did. Sword and no shield, Beau figured. Probably no armor, either, which sucked, but then Beau couldn’t exactly talk. She’d been whacked in the gut by staves aplenty at the Cobalt Soul, wounds which she was sure her soulmate would not thank her for. There was also the fact that neither the wizard or the goblin particularly looked like her type. Someone that could break her in half, given the opportunity.

About five minutes later, someone fitting exactly that description walked through the door. Beau didn’t notice at first; she was deep in her cups, still trying to figure out whether Fjord was capable of giving someone an earth-shattering orgasm. Not really something she  _wanted_ to think about, if she was honest.

‘Well, I’ve never seen a group of people more in need of a good time in my life.’ Beau jumped. The tiefling that was standing there could only be described as a complete and utter assault on the senses. Beau didn’t know where to focus her eyes; the lavender skin, the technicolor coat, the red eyes. The horns...The only way in which this guy was Beau’s type was for him being the type of person that she would want to chuck off a bridge.

The woman standing behind him on the other hand…No armor, big sword, looked like she could ravage Beau over the dumpster in an alleyway, and Beau would just say thank-you. Definitely someone that fucked, which was a point in her favor for the whole soulmate thing.  Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

But there were a lot of people in the world. For all Beau knew, her soulmate could have been somewhere in Marquet, and the muted feelings thing was just another blip. Then, the tall woman frowned, her eyes scanning the room. Was  _she_ feeling something right now? Her eyes locked with Beau’s, and Beau tore her gaze away. She didn’t want to experience the humiliation of being wrong. If this was her soulmate, then, well, she’d find out in due course. For all Beau knew, though, she’d never see this woman again. That would probably be about her luck; find her soulmate, only to have them decide that the soulmate connection was bullshit, and want nothing to do with Beau.  She’d definitely had that nightmare before.

That fear was a little more omnipresent than the fear of never finding her soulmate, because at least if she never found them, then she’d never run the risk of being rejected and abandoned.

So there were some issues there.

‘This is Yasha, she’s the charm,’ the tiefling – Mollymauk – said. Beau couldn’t help but see how the name sounded on her lips.

‘ _Yaaasha_ ,’ she said.

The group went to the circus, and Beau decided not to let herself feel even a shred ashamed about having Yasha carry her in. As they walked, Beau could have sworn she felt a second heartbeat, layered over the top of her own, a steady  _thump thump thump_ that was exhilarating and comforting all at once.

Then, everything went to shit, and Beau forgot about all of that. She did what she always did, and went in with fists blazing, nearly getting eviscerated by a zombie for her efforts. The pain pulsated through her even as she laid a beat-down on the undead thing, punching its teeth into its brain.

As Jester healed her, Beau was barely paying attention. Her heart was still pounding fast, from the thrill of the fight, and if she hadn’t seen a brief movement out of the corner of her eye, she might have missed it.

Yasha.

The barbarian was clutching at her chest as she spoke (if a little lightly), and to the best of Beau’s knowledge, she hadn’t taken any damage in the fight. 

Beau had, though.

_Was_ this mysterious – (hot) – woman her soulmate? Was this the person that Beau had been feeling the pain, the happiness, the anger of, for the last  ten years?

It wasn’t a lot to go on. The world was a big place, after all. The chances of just running into her soulmate in a small town in the Empire were…well, stranger things had happened. And maybe that was the point of soulmates, that you were  _supposed_ to use  those shared feelings to try and find them. Not that Beau had specifically been looking for that. But, if she found someone that was willing to hold her as she slept at night, then she wasn’t going to complain.

Before Beau could even think of what she was going to say, what she was going to ask, Yasha had fled. It made sense, in a way. The Crownsguard were trying to blame the whole lot of them for a travesty that they’d only tried to prevent. Beau might have run away, too, if it hadn’t been the first time in months that she’d actually found people that were willing to actually talk to her.

Molly, the dick, stonewalled any of Beau’s attempts at asking a question that might have given Beau any useful information. Beau could get why. For all the tiefling knew, Beau was just  another shitbag that wanted to get railed. Well, maybe that part was still true.  Even if Yasha wasn’t her soulmate, she still wouldn’t have said no to a quickie.

Yasha didn’t show up for a while after that. Not until they were back in the courtroom of Trostenwald, trying to prove their innocence. Admittedly, Beau was a little distracted by the sudden (and disconcerting) appearance of Zeenoth,  the exasperated Cobalt Soul elf . She looked for, and didn’t find a chance to escape.  Instead, she returned with the rest of the group to the Nestled Nook Inn.

‘I’ll just make my way wherever we go, and maybe I’ll not stay with you the whole time,’ Yasha was saying, and Beau couldn’t help but feel a little bit of a twinge in her chest. She could have sworn that Yasha’s eyes flashed towards her, but they were gone so quickly, the woman might just have been scanning all of them.

‘Are you claustrophobic?’ Beau asked, and Yasha seemed a little surprised by the question. 

‘I like to have my freedom,’ Yasha shrugged. The words had a bit of a sting to them, and Beau knew that it wasn’t intentional, but she still couldn’t help but feel a little bit hurt. It wouldn’t have been the first time that someone told her she was a shackle. 

‘Not tied down to anything but that cloak, am I right?;

Yasha gave a light chuckle, and it was a beautiful sort of sound. Beau was lost in her eyes. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ she said.

So they made plans. Plans that were almost immediately scuppered by the sound of a familiar voice calling Beau’s name. Only he didn’t say “Beau,” he said “Beauregard,” which was always a recipe for trouble.

The last thing Beau wanted – or needed – right now, was the Cobalt Soul in her life, let alone Zeenoth, and the mysterious hooded figure that seemed to have accompanied him here. So, naturally, Beau almost immediately got cornered by them.

It was not the sort of meeting that Beau had expected. She had expected them to try and drag her back to the Cobalt Soul, to admonish her for running away. But the mysterious hooded figure – an elf named Dairon, who very clearly seemed to outrank Zeenoth – did none of that.

Instead, they sparred with Beau to the limit of her abilities (sorry, Yasha?), and promised to continue training her, to give Beau something to work with, rather than to fight against.

But that didn’t mean Beau didn’t have questions. The least important of which, and yet the one that had plagued her mind so completely for the last couple of days was the one that came first:

‘Do you have a soulmate?’

Dairon’s fist stopped an inch from Beau’s neck. It must have taken incredible control and resolve not to follow through, but clearly Dairon was vastly more trained and experienced than Beau would ever be.

‘That is a curious question for you to ask,’ Dairon said. They pulled their fist back.

‘I just…’ Beau frowned. She didn’t want to give the game away, didn’t want to give away the fact that she thought that Yasha might be her soulmate. That was way too much baggage to pile on someone that she had literally just met. ‘Sometimes when I fight, I get distracted. ‘Cos I don’t want them to get hurt.’ Or because Beau could feel the _thump thump thump_ of adrenaline. Even now, there was a slight undercurrent of fear coming from Yasha. Beau winced. Yeah, that was going to be a problem.

‘Yes,’ Dairon said, finally. ‘I do have a soulmate. I do not know who they are.’ She paused. ‘They lead an...interesting life. I have learned to block out much of it, using my ki.’

‘Huh.’ Beau didn’t even realize that was possible. Late at night, when she had heart her soulmate’s – heard Yasha’s – heart beating, she had thought of possibility, more than she had thought about trying to block it out. _That_ thought hadn’t even occurred to her.

Being soulmates was not an expectation, or even a promise. In fact, Beau had heard of a lot of people who saw it as little more than a nuisance. People who had no interest in relationships romantic or otherwise, and yet were overcome with the pain or the emotions of someone that they’d never met in their life.

It definitely felt uncomfortably like fate, which was definitely a thing that Beau had never held much truck with. But, she couldn’t deny that she liked the idea of being important to someone, even if they had never met. Blocking it out...Beau didn’t want that.  She didn’t even entirely know  _why_ she didn’t want it. Just that she knew she would regret it if she did.

The real reason that so many soulmates did end up together had little to do with that, though, and more to do with the fact that being able to definitively know someone’s feelings tended to make things both a great deal easier, and a great deal harder.  A lot less second-guessing. A lot less doubt.

Beau had been fully prepared to hate her soulmate. Fully prepared to just go about her life the way she always had, pretending that the feelings in her chest didn’t belong to someone else. She wouldn’t have been the only one.

  
But, the connection Beau had with Yasha was about more than just the tangible. There was something about her...something that would have sent Beau’s heart racing even if they hadn’t been soulmates.

The pain that she felt  when Yasha had left them  that first time , Beau was sure had nothing to do with that connection. Whether or not Yasha felt it, though, was another matter altogether. Generally, it was strong emotions and physical sensations that got sent, but Beau never knew what was strong enough. It was one of those things where she wouldn’t even really be sure unless she actually  _asked_ Yasha, and she really, really wasn’t ready for that conversation just yet.

Beau tried not to read too much into the concerned look on Yasha’s face when Beau  came down to breakfast the next morning.

‘What happened to you?’ Yasha asked. Her brow was furrowed in what was probably concern, but it was hard to tell with Yasha.

‘I had a great night,’ Beau said. Even though she was pretty sure the Expositors were supposed to be a “not so public” thing, she couldn’t help but tell them at least a little bit.

They wandered around a bit, buying maps, and drugs, and healing potions, and it wasn’t until they were getting ready to leave Trostenwald that Yasha told them she was staying.

‘I think I need to stay here just a little bit longer. But I will meet you guys there at some point?’ On the whole, Yasha didn’t seem entirely sure of what she was saying, and Beau definitely noticed a couple of glances in her direction as she said it.

Nott and Jester were adamant that Yasha give answers, but the only answer that Yasha seemed to be able to give was a shrug. ‘I just don’t think I can leave here until I’m told I can.’

Beau felt maybe a little bit bad for the interrogation that followed. But if she was going to be feeling weird things in the middle of the night, she at least wanted to know what Yasha would be doing.

It wasn’t until about six days later that they ran into Yasha again, in the Steam’s Respite in Zadash. Beau hadn’t felt too much from her in those six days; a couple of scraps, but nothing too serious. The Mighty Nein, on the other hand, had run into a decent amount of trouble in Alfield, which she was sure Yasha would have felt.

True to Beau’s prediction, there was the slightest look of relief on Yasha’s face when she saw them, which seemed to have nothing to do with the fact that everybody was naked.

It felt good to have a bath. Beau hadn’t realized just how much she missed having one daily, until she’d left Zadash the first time, and got soaked in zombie blood, and gnoll blood, and manticore blood, and all other manner of gore and viscera. Watching it all slough off into the water was unexpectedly satisfying.

They stayed in there for a while, just shooting the shit, and getting everything clean. Eventually, though, the rest of the party decided to leave, and it was just Beau and Yasha alone in the tub. Beau could feel her own heart beating, and, just like the circus, she could have sworn that she felt another one on top of it. 

‘I mean, I don’t care to show anything,’ Yasha said, and Beau was almost certain she wasn’t talking about her body. Of all the words Beau could have used to describe Yasha, “modest” wasn’t one of them. At least not in this sense.

‘No?’ The question was right there, and neither of them said anything. Beau still couldn’t figure out whether Yasha knew. She _had_ to have known. 

‘I feel like this is a pool of honesty. I just wanted to see everybody else naked first.’ That said, though, Yasha’s eyes hadn’t left Beau while everyone else got out of the tub. 

Eventually, the moment faded. Beau did get a pretty good look, though, as Yasha climbed out of the tub. Yasha’s muscles glistened with water;  she definitely worked out, and Beau wondered if maybe she’d let Beau watch one day. Like Beau, her body was covered in scars; there was a large one on her back that might have been made with a sword. Beau had a strong memory of being back in Kamordah, of having to grab onto the staircase railing to stop herself falling when she’d felt a sharp pain in her back.

Yasha didn’t look back as she left, and after a few minutes of being alone in the water with nothing but her thoughts, Beau followed.

In the sewers of Zadash, they fought poisonous rats, and a giant spider. It was the first time in all the weeks that they had known each other that Beau saw Yasha take damage, and felt the aftershock of it. There was no doubt in her mind, now (as if there had ever really been) Yasha was her soulmate.

Whether or not Yasha knew, though, was another question altogether. That was a question that Beau didn’t even begin to know how to bring up. She wasn’t even sure how common knowledge it was outside of the Empire, and it was pretty clear that Yasha was not from the Empire.

Beau didn’t ask straight away. 

She waited until after Yasha was knocked unconscious in the lab of Siff Duthar, sending a wave of agony through Beau’s head, waited until after their fight with the hill giant in the Victory Pit (during which Beau almost fainted from the shock of an enormous club slamming Yasha into the dirt), until after they had left Zadash completely, and were on the road to Berleben.

Beau offered to take the first watch with Yasha, ignoring the Look that Molly gave her, and the double thumbs up from Jester. She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t as though she had mentioned to any of them that she thought Yasha might be her soulmate (again, just a word), but they could hardly have failed to notice how Beau reacted every time Yasha got hurt. Whether or not Yasha did the same thing when the opposite happened, Beau didn’t know. That was the thing about getting stabbed in the gut. You were generally paying more attention to the gaping wound, than to everything else around you.

There were a few minutes of what Beau would have called disastrous flirting, though she didn’t know if Yasha would have recognized it as such. Stuff about cuddling for warmth, and whatever, and Yasha effortlessly seemed to rebuff any of Beau’s attempts at getting closer. A slight twinge of embarrassment coursed through Beau, and she definitely wasn’t imagining the look that Yasha gave her. A look of...regret?

‘How long since you’ve left Xhorhas?’ Beau asked. ‘Did you grow up there? That’s a better question, take that one.’

‘I did grow up there, but I left there, I think it was about...eight months ago.’ Beau tried to think about whatever things she had felt eight months ago, whether there was any pain, or sadness, or regret. Admittedly, there had always been pain, and sadness, and regret. Yasha was...well, she seemed sad in general, and that broke Beau’s heart.

‘All of this is very new, you know?’ Yasha continued. ‘Like this stuff…’ She had been slowly picking away at a clump of greenery by her side. ‘Grass.’

‘You appreciate grass?’ Beau probably shouldn’t have been so judgmental. She had grown up in Kamordah, after all, a place where grass was about as common as flowers (read: not very fucking common at all). 

‘I think so, it’s a much softer ground to sit on.’ Yasha had a small, soft smile on her face. This was it. This was the moment.

‘Hey, I have a question,’ Beau said, as though she hadn’t already asked half a dozen other questions through their watch so far. Even still, it half felt like it came from nowhere. ‘Have you noticed how like...in tune with each other we are? How if one of us gets hurt, the other one feels it?’ Gods, out of context, that sounded like the world’s worst pick-up line, and Beau should have known. She was the master of the bad pick-up line. Yasha’s response, though, surprised the shit out of her.

‘You mean, have I noticed that we are soulmates?’ Yasha asked, her expression suddenly gloomy. Beau couldn’t ask what that meant. 

‘I—’ Beau said. Yasha _knew_? She knew, and she hadn’t said anything? (Not that Beau had said anything either. ‘You—you gave me an orgasm in the middle of a library!’ It wasn’t the conversation that Beau expected to have with her soulmate, let alone the first conversation where they were both on the same page. But, she’d been so overcome by Yasha’s response that all reason had left her.

Yasha’s mouth was slightly agape. ‘You’re welcome?’ she said.

‘Motherfucker,’ Beau muttered. ‘How long have you known?’

Yasha shrugged slightly. ‘When I first walked into the tavern in Trostenwald, I could feel your heart beating when you looked at me. Then, when we fought the zombie at the carnival, I felt its claws slam into you. All the times you have gone unconscious, I have felt that too.’ Well, yeah. Beau had gone unconscious a few times. It was sort of becoming a thing.

‘Oh,’ Beau said. ‘So we’ve both known for a while, and neither of us have said anything.’ Somehow, that felt on brand for them.

‘I guess so.’ Yasha gave a small smile. ‘I mean...I did not expect to find my soulmate ever, let alone in the Empire.’

‘Yeah,’ Beau agreed. ‘That...that was something, huh? Gods. I feel like I know so much about you now, and yet nothing at all.’

It was like a whole world had opened up. Beau had known her soulmate only in the disconnected feelings of pain, and anger, and sorrow, but now...now they could have a conversation. Now they could bridge the gap between them.

Beau had so many questions. So many things that she had felt over the years that she didn’t know the source of. There was really only one place she could have started.

‘About five years ago,’ Beau said. ‘I think it was in Quen’pillar? The worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. Worse than any of the stuff that’s even just happened to me. I thought I was going to die.’ The question was implied, but not spoken: _What happened?_

Yasha’s eyes widened, and then filled with tears.  _Oh, fuck_ . Beau hadn’t been trying to make Yasha cry. She really hadn’t. But that pain, and everything that had followed…it had been the worst six months of Beau’s life.

Even now, despite the fact that they were sitting next to each other, Beau could feel an afterglow of pain. Like a hangover.

‘I...I am not ready to talk about that just yet,’ Yasha said. ‘I am sorry if I hurt you.’

Beau hadn’t been looking for an apology. She just felt like...well, if something horrible had happened in her soulmate’s life, she wanted to know about it.

‘Yeah, sure. Of course. Whenever you’re ready, you know?’

‘Of course.’

There was a long pause. ‘At first I felt…resentful,’ Yasha said, and that was not the word that Beau had expected to hear. ‘That my soulmate would be someone that I had never met, would somehow diminish the relationship that I had with someone I loved dearly.’ Beau didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that the person Yasha had loved dearly was the one she had lost five years ago.

‘I mean, some people aren’t soulmates, and still have really strong relationships,’ Beau said, shrugging. ‘Some people meet their soulmates and end up hating them. It’s just a word, y’know?’ She could not help but sound a little dejected. But then, she’d been in exactly the same position, fully prepared to ignore the bond if it had been with someone she didn’t like.

‘Do not take that to mean that I do not l…like you,’ Yasha said. ‘They are just very complicated feelings to think about.’

Beau could definitely relate. Not that she had ever thought Tori, or anyone else had truly been someone that she could spend the rest of her life with. But to fall in love with someone knowing that the universe thought you should be with someone else must have been...difficult.

Now that she was certain that Yasha was her soulmate,  Beau started picking up on the little details. Like the rush of warmth that she felt in her chest whenever Yasha raged, the joy followed by sadness when something that she had been fighting died. On the whole, a lot of sadness. More than Beau would have really thought, and it had taken her until being able to look into Yasha’s eyes that she even recognized it as sadness.

Weirdly, it felt wrong, to have such insight into the emotional state of someone that she had just met, but then, the reverse was also true. Whenever Beau got into a particularly melancholy state, thinking about her father, or her mother, or her brother, she would get a side-eyed look from Yasha. The feelings were never particularly strong, Beau knew, but enough that they could be felt.

It was a weird and confusing thing.

Not nearly as weird and confusing as the way Yasha seemed to cling to Beau after their failed attempt at retrieving Febron’s corpse from the Venom Troll. The night they spent in the safe-house on the banks of the Ounterloch, Yasha did not stray from Beau’s side, except to take watch. The splashes of poison against Beau’s skin had been painful and burning, and must have been just as bad for Yasha.

They had a vested interest in keeping each other safe, now. Not that they hadn’t been doing it before. But more and more, Beau noticed Yasha coming to her side to heal her, or protect her. It happened in the cave full of Merrow, and again in the  heart of the Gearhold Prison, against a nightmare of blades and gears.

Things were definitely changing between them. Beau noticed it, and she was pretty sure that the rest of the Mighty Nein noticed it, too.

They didn’t know that the two of them were soulmates, though. Or at least, if they did, none of them had said anything. Beau liked the idea that that maybe life-shattering piece of information was just between the two of them for now.

At least, that had been the plan right up until Yasha, Fjord and Jester were snatched out from under them.

It had been a normal night. They were all feeling maybe a little dejected after leaving Kiri behind in Hupperdook, and Beau took a while to eventually fall asleep.  It had been an exhausting day, both emotionally and otherwise.

She was ripped from consciousness in the middle of the night by a pit of dread in her stomach. She could recognize, by this point, the feelings that were hers, versus the feelings that were Yasha’s, and this unequivocally felt like Yasha’s dread.

Beau grabbed her staff, just inches from her bedroll, and jumped to her feet.

It was dark; that wasn’t all that unusual. It was nighttime, after all, and they were a decent enough way from Hupperdook that the lights of the city didn’t  quite  reach them.

It was quiet; that was a little more unusual. There were usually at least ambient noises, like the crackle of the fire, or the distant sound of a howling wolf, or the low murmurs of whoever had taken watch.

Tonight, there was nothing. 

Something was very clearly wrong; Molly, and Caleb, and Veth were lying there asleep, but the others… It took Beau a few moments to realize what was going on.

Fjord and Jester and Yasha were a little way away from the camp, and they were fighting. Beau didn’t even think before leaping into action. She swung her staff at the dark, shadowy figures, letting out a grunt that didn’t seem to come out.

Fjord and Jester were both gagged and manacled, and Yasha –  _Yasha, Yasha, Yasha –_ was fighting her hardest. She barely seemed to notice as Beau joined her,  staff swinging wildly . One of the dark figures wrenched Yasha’s sword from her hands, slapped another pair of manacles onto her. The fear and the pain and the agony in Beau’s chest was threatening to spill over, and she didn’t know how much of it was hers.

Then, she felt the crack of something against the back of her head, and it all stopped.

It felt like hours later when Beau was shaken awake by Molly, but it was probably  a lot less than that. It was still dark at any rate. ‘Hey!’ he said. Beau couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but his voice sounded terrified.  Beau’s head throbbed, and the pit of dread in her stomach was threatening to bubble up, and burst out.  ‘What happened? Where’re Yasha and the others?’

‘They—someone took them.’ Beau’s voice was broken. She could feel the fear in Yasha, a feeling that always seemed a little unfamiliar, perhaps because it happened so rarely. Beau sat there, numbly, as Molly woke Caleb and Nott.

They all, predictably, wanted answers.

‘I felt it,’ Beau said. ‘I can’t explain how.’ Well, she _could_ explain how. She just didn’t particularly want the others to know about it. Molly, true to form, decided to say “fuck you” to what Beau wanted.

‘That soul bond, huh?’ His face was grim, and in spite of the circumstances, Beau felt like hitting him.

‘You motherf—how do you know?’

‘Oh, sweetie.’ He gave Beau a smile that might have been condescending or comforting. ‘Neither of you are doing a particularly good job at hiding it.’

Beau waved a hand. ‘We’ve got to go and get them back.’

‘Well _obviously_ _._ ’ Molly said it like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like he didn’t have an omnipresent black hole of pain and anxiety in his stomach. Her own fear was so strong that Beau couldn’t tell what was hers and what was Yasha’s, conjoined like a constrictor snake crushing its prey.

Fear, Beau could deal with, she was sure. She’d been afraid before. It wasn’t until the sun had risen and morning proper had come that the rest of it started. They had gotten an early start, tracking where they could, and hopefully following the cart that had taken their friends. It was just past sunrise when Beau felt the lash of something sharp and hot against her back, and cried out in pain.

A few seconds later, it happened again. Then, in her right arm. Beau’s fist clenched. Pain radiated from her wrist all the way up her shoulder, like someone was trying to carve out her bones. ‘Beauregard.’ Caleb’s voice sounded like it was coming from a hundred miles away.

‘They’re being tortured,’ Beau just about managed to eke out. ‘I mean...at least Yasha is.’

A hand gripped Beau’s shoulder. She didn’t need to look to know who it belonged to. The normally lavender tiefling had paled to almost a lilac color, his red eyes wide in fear. ‘We have to save them,’ he said,  a near echo of Beau’s words from just hours ago . There wasn’t even a question in it.

Of course they had to save them. Even if Beau didn’t spend the entire night trying not to scream as Yasha was beaten, cut, brutalized...She could not sleep for the pain of it, and the rest of the group, and Keg, their newly acquired possible ally, seemed unsure of what to do.

To Beau’s surprise, it was Molly that helped her through it. He put his arms around Beau, and made gentle soothing noises as he rubbed her back. Weirdly, it helped. It was the first time that anyone had ever done anything like that for Beau.

‘I used to do this for Yasha,’ Molly told her, when they had a few minutes of peace. It wouldn’t last long. ‘Whenever you got in a really bad fight, I guess.’

Beau grimaced. ‘Yeah, that, uh…happened a lot.’

‘I know.’

‘I couldn’t exactly help it.’ Not because it was in her nature, but because she was being trained to fight, being trained to deal with pain.

‘I know,’ Molly said again, after a very long pause. ‘Those monks did a number on you, huh?’

Like everything in Beau’s life, it was complicated. Sure, the monks had dragged her from her house, bleeding and bruised, but they had also given her a chance to be something more than the bratty daughter of a vintner.  Then, she had run away to see the circus.

Beau gave a half-snort. ‘Compared to my dad—’ A sudden stab of overwhelming agony pierced Beau’s chest, and she let out a scream. ‘ _Fuck_ .’ They’d started again. They hadn’t even gotten the others back  _to_ Shady Creek Run, and already it was awful. Beau couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like when Yasha’s torturers had the convenience of a cell, and more implements than could be carried in a cart.

For all they knew, Jester and Fjord were also being tortured, but the group didn’t have the convenience of a soulmate link to be able to find out.

‘It’s gonna be okay,’ Molly was saying, even as he continued to rub her back. Beau wondered if he was talking to her, or talking to Yasha. Maybe both. ‘We’ll ambush the carts tomorrow, and we’ll get them back. It’s gonna be okay.’

It wasn’t okay.

It wasn’t okay, because instead of ambushing Lorenzo, and killing the Iron Shepherds, and rescuing their friends, they lost one. Instead of being able to run to Yasha’s side and tell her everything was going to be okay, Beau got to watch as Lorenzo’s glaive sunk into Molly’s chest, mere inches from her. 

The only thought that crossed her mind was that Yasha would be able to feel every ounce of pain, and grief and rage, without knowing why.

She had to have known that something terrible had happened. There was only one thing that could possibly be responsible for that kind of feeling, the same feeling that Beau had felt in Quen’pillar all those years ago, when Yasha had lost someone close to her.

That night, in Shady Creek Run, Beau did the only thing that she could think of to try and dull the pain. Something that seemed like the shittiest possible thing to do, given the circumstances, but Beau felt so lost, so broken that there was only one thing in the world that would help put her back together.

The elf named Vorsah looked nothing like Yasha, and her touch was nothing like what Beau imagined Yasha’s to be. Her hands were soft and smooth, long fingernails at the end of slim fingers. Her hair was silky, like it had been brushed a thousand times. In that moment, Beau hated her soulmate connection, hated what Yasha was about to feel her do. Maybe the fact that they were closer now, meant that Yasha wouldn’t feel it as much.

At least, that was what Beau told herself. She had a very long, very hot bath afterwards, trying to wash away the guilt and the pain. Wherever Yasha was, whatever the Iron Shepherds were doing to her, it seemed quiet now. 

Soon they would hit the Sour Nest, soon they would be able to free Fjord and Jester and Yasha from whatever cages they were imprisoned in, but first, there was a hermit in the woods that they needed to see.

Beau wasn’t entirely sure  _why_ they needed to see him. Maybe it was just the fact that they’d been woefully outclassed once before, and any little bit of help, magical or otherwise, would be welcome. No magic that they had access to, though, would bring Molly back, or stop the pain that overwhelmed Beau at the most inconvenient times.

_Should have asked Dairon to teach that ki thing_ . Would have been useful, now.

The hermit was a firbolg cleric named Caduceus, who effortlessly healed the wound from the crossbow bolt that Nott fired, piercing Beau’s abdomen. ‘What the fuck, Nott? That was a killing blow.’ Beau gesticulated with the bolt that she had managed to catch, less concerned for her own welfare than she was for the fact that Yasha would have felt the hit.

Not that Beau wasn’t getting anything from the other end of it. They were on the road once more, getting ready to assault the Sour Nest, when the next wave of torture started.

‘Fuck!’ The pain in Beau’s chest came once more without warning, and this time, Beau didn’t have anyone to soothe her, paid for or otherwise. She clenched her fist, and tried to ignore it.

‘I’ve got some tea for that, if you’d like,’ Caduceus said, lightly, like he was talking about a tea that would make her fall asleep a little faster. ‘To ease the pain a little.’

Caleb frowned. ‘To ease the pain?’ he asked. The tone of his voice, Beau wondered if he had a soulmate out there, who he hadn’t told any of them about. Beau had seen a lot of confusing and suspicions things about Caleb, but she had assumed that most of them were the result of killing his parents.

‘It just sort of mutes it,’ Caduceus said. ‘The connection is still there, but you don’t feel it for a little while.’

‘Will Ya—will the person on the other end still be able to feel it?’ Beau asked. She didn’t want to put Yasha, already afraid and in pain, in the position of thinking that she was dead.

‘Ah.’ Caduceus frowned. ‘You know, I’ve never really had the chance to find out,’ he said. Beau couldn’t risk it. If it meant that she kept feeling Yasha’s pain...well then at least she knew that Yasha was alive. That Molly’s death had meant _something_.

In any case, Beau was getting much, much better at stopping the screams. The pain was no less, especially now that it seemed to be accompanied by fear.  _That_ scared Beau, because of all the people she knew, Yasha was quite possibly the  _least_ fearful. Maybe there was a feedback loop, where feeling each others’ fear, just made it worse for both of them.

That was the thing about being in love; the good emotions were stronger, but the bad ones were, too. The  warmth and freedom of being in love, worth the pain and the fear and the agony of maybe losing them. It was stupid. It wasn’t as though anything had even  _happened_ yet. “Love” was maybe a little bit of a strong word. Beau wasn’t even sure if anything  _would_ happen, but she already knew that losing Yasha would break her heart beyond anything she had ever felt from the bond before. It had been a long time since she’d felt emptiness there.

Not since the last time Yasha had lost someone.

It was an agony that Beau got to feel all over again, after they rescued their friends from the Sour Nest, after they got out onto the road again.

The Mighty Nein were standing at Molly’s  grave-site when Yasha roused to consciousness. It didn’t take her long to figure out what had happened.

It was like twin daggers in Beau’s chest. There was her own pain, and then there was Yasha’s, and each of them only served to make the other worse. Then, Beau felt a twinge of pain in her shoulders as a pair of dark, skeletal wings erupted from Yasha’s back. The pain turned to anger and sadness.

‘Yasha.’ Beau’s voice came out as a croak. Yasha held out a hand.

‘I’ll find you when I’m ready,’ she said.

Yasha had to have known. Had to have known what Beau knew, that everything that they felt was stronger the further apart they were. Whether Yasha was punishing Beau, or punishing herself was unclear, but for every day that they were apart, Beau felt the sting of Yasha’s grief, over and over again, and there was no doubt in her mind that Yasha was feeling hers.

Somehow, that made it worse. That Yasha didn’t care enough about Beau’s pain to even stay nearby. Or maybe she didn’t know at all. Yasha didn’t really seem the vindictive type, even if she did blame Beau for Molly’s death.

It seemed stupid to looking for comfort after Fjord and Jester had been through hell. For the first time since having met Yasha, though, Beau felt a cold emptiness in her chest.

The other times when Yasha went away, she usually gave at least something of an indication that she would be back soon. This time, though… “When I’m ready” could have meant six months, or a year, or two years. Grief was a funny thing, and Yasha had certainly known Molly a lot longer than the rest of them. The fact that she even  _wanted_ to find them again was a near miracle.

The journey south was slow. It would be nice to see the sand and the sea, something that Beau had only ever really seen pictures of in books. The way Jester talked about Nicodranas, it was the most beautiful place in the world. ‘It means “Gathering of Colors,”’ Jester explained. ‘There are people from  _all_ over the world that come to Nicodranas, you know, because it’s like a port city.’

‘Sure,’ Beau said. People had never really gone out of their way to visit Kamordah, even if they were wine enthusiasts. At best, the town got its yearly influx of weird cultists that thought their god was imprisoned under Mount Mentiri, and geologists interested in studying the geysers and the soil. It wasn’t on the road to anywhere, either, which meant that people didn’t really wander through. Criminal gangs were an oddity, rather than a norm.

On the whole, a pretty depressing place. At the moment, though, everything felt like a depressing place, because no matter what they did, no matter who they spoke to, all Beau could think about was Yasha. All she could think about was that world-shattering grief that had sent waves of pain rushing through her, the moment Yasha had realized what had happened.

It was at least another few weeks before they saw Yasha again. The end of Fessuran, and all through Quen’pillar, and into Cuersaar, Beau felt Yasha’s agony. It was like a shroud, cloaking her, consuming her. She snapped at the rest of the group, and retreated into herself. It was...well, it was fucking awful. The group were far more patient than Beau had any right to expect, and that made her feel guilty on top of all of that.

So when they arrived in Nicodranas, and saw a very familiar, very tired looking barbarian sitting in a booth at a bar, Beau wasn’t the only one that looked relieved.

‘I am trying to get in the water,’ Yasha told them. ‘I need to go somewhere.’ She was pretty vague about the whole situation, but Beau was so glad to see Yasha that she didn’t really care too much. She bought two bottles of wine for the group (sadly not anywhere near as good a wine as Beau was used to), and they caught up over drinks. Yasha kept stealing glances in Beau’s direction, and Beau got the impression that she wanted to talk alone.

Beau found an excuse to drag her outside, drag her away from the Wayfarer’s Cove, off to a quieter part of the Restless Wharf. Not that there were many quiet parts.

‘It…’ Yasha paused. Seemed to consider her words. ‘It hurts to be far from you,’ she said, finally. 

‘Yeah, that’s how the whole soulmate thing works,’ Beau said. ‘The further apart we are, the more we feel...everything.’ 

A look of utmost surprise crossed Yasha’s face. ‘I...did not know that,’ she said. ‘I just meant that being away from you hurts  _me_ .’

Beau stared. She had felt those pangs of longing in Yasha’s heart for days on end, and assumed that they had just been for Molly. Most of them probably had, but perhaps one or two of them could have been for Beau, the same way some of Beau’s had been for Yasha.

‘Wait.’ Yasha was frowning, like she’d only just properly processed what Beau had said. ‘The further apart we are, the more it hurts?’ She sounded a little horrified. ‘You mean that I have been hurting you every time I go away?’

Oh. Shit. Beau hadn’t meant that to sound like an accusation. She waved a hand, and muttered something that was supposed to be a dismissal, but mostly just sounded like the gibberish of someone that was tripping over their tongue. ‘It’s I mean...you know...I...it’s fine. Like what we had before we met. Nothing I can’t handle.’

Yasha pulled Beau in towards her, and rested her chin on top of Beau’s head. ‘I am so sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.’

‘You could never.’ Beau didn’t even know how to begin to explain how much better her life was with Yasha in it, how the simple fact that she had Yasha in her life had turned her from a broken, angry rebel into someone that actually cared about things.

That  _thump thump thump_ of her heart whenever she saw Yasha had nothing to do with the bond between them, had everything to do with the fact that it was  _Yasha_ . A mysterious, beautiful, kind person that just so happened to be a fallen angel. Beau would have fallen for her even if she hadn’t spent her  young adult years feeling every cut, every stab, every scrape.

‘I…’ Yasha started. Her arms gripped around Beau a little tighter. ‘I am ready to tell you about what happened five years ago,’ she said.

They took a long walk. It was Beau’s first time seeing the ocean, and there was something magical about doing it with someone like Yasha at her side. Someone who had the same look of wonder at the waves crashing against the shore, who stood at the very edge of the water, and let the wet sand trickle between her toes. It was nice.

A little way down the beach, there were a series of rocks, the first large, and each one progressively smaller. The smallest was about thirty feet into the water, and looked like it could fit the two of them, if not comfortably, then at least without either one of them falling in.

They sat in silence for a very long time, before Yasha started to talk. ‘I lived in the south of Xhorhas with a tribe called the Dolarov Tribe. It was…well, it was mostly okay. No flowers.’ She gave Beau a look. ‘No grass.’ 

‘In the tribe, there were rules.’ Yasha swallowed. ‘The Sky Spear – the matriarch of our tribe – was a big believer in soulmates, and thought that it was not right for people to be with someone that was not their soulmate. For the first few years of my life, I did not think that I had a soulmate, but then...when I was ten years old, or so...I do not know how to explain it, but I felt that my soulmate had entered the world.’ Beau didn’t need to know how old Yasha was to know what that meant, that Yasha had somehow been aware of Beau’s birth.

‘It did not begin straight away, but when it did...I felt when you were hurt, felt when you were sad. Felt…’ Yasha ran a hand along her right arm. Beau nodded. When Beau had first broken her arm, it was an agonizing pain. One of the healers in Kamordah had tried to set it, but they’d ended up calling in a cleric, it had been such a bad break. Didn’t stop her from climbing trees, though. ‘Even though I knew that my soulmate was not in my tribe, I grew close to someone. Fell in love.’ There was a long pause. ‘I did not even think it was possible, that I could fall in love with someone that I was not bonded to, but I did. We were together, and then, eventually, we got married.’ Another long pause. ‘It was forbidden to marry someone who was not your soulmate, but we did not care. How could we have soulmates, we thought? How could the universe possibly know that someone we had never met would be the right one for us, when we were the right ones for each other?’

Beau felt a pinpoint of dread growing in her chest. She already knew how this ended. Knew that it ended with the worst pain she’d ever felt in her life, with the agony of losing the most important person in your world.

‘The Sky Spear found out.’ Yasha was openly crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks even as she continued her story. ‘In the tribe, the punishment for being with someone other than your soulmate was death. They killed Zuala – they killed my wife – and I…and I ran away.’ Beau gripped Yasha’s hand so tightly, she was sure she was cutting off the blood-flow, but rather than pull away, Yasha only squeezed back. ‘I do not know where she was buried, but...I have so many flowers to bring to her.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Beau murmured. ‘Yasha, I’m so sorry.’ Were it anyone else, Beau might have given some meaningless platitude, like “I can’t imagine how that must have felt,” but she _could_ imagine, because she _had_ felt it, and yet it still felt like nothing in comparison to what Yasha had actually gone through.

But Yasha wasn’t finished. ‘For the longest time, I resented the idea of having a soulmate, because…’ She took a deep breath, and was very clearly trying not to look Beau in the eyes. ‘Because how could I love someone I had never met? How could that be my person when I might never meet them? But then I  _did_ meet you, and...I tried so hard not to let you into my heart.’ She trailed off, and stared off into the horizon. It was a clear day, but the bright blue of the sky was still a stark contrast against the deep teal of the ocean. ‘I cannot promise that my heart will ever be healed, but I do know that I care for you a lot. That I would rather die than let anything happen to you.’ She took the hand that was holding Beau’s, and lifted it to her lips. The kiss that she pressed there was gentle, and full of promise. Beau leaned her head against Yasha’s shoulder.

‘Whatever you had with your wife is just as real – even more real – as anything else,’ Beau told her. ‘That’s what they say in the Empire, you know? It’s just a word, it doesn’t mean you’ll end up together or anything.’

Yasha was very quiet.  For minutes on end, she didn’t say anything. Then: ‘Thank-you for saying that, Beau.’ A complicated feeling of grief, and love, and all of those things rose in Beau’s chest. Beau squeezed Yasha’s hand.

‘It’s really nice out here,’ she said. Yasha hummed in agreement. Something had clearly shifted between them, and in spite of the bond, Beau couldn’t quite tell what Yasha was feeling. Maybe because Yasha didn’t even really seem to know. 

It was...confusing, but at least they were both confused, which somehow made it less confusing.

They stayed out there for a little while longer, before returning to the Lavish Chateau, to prepare for the evening’s performance. Beau dressed carefully, wanting to make sure that she was putting on her best front. Not that she thought Yasha would have minded. She could have gone to the performance dressed in a hessian sack, and Yasha would have told her she was beautiful.

There was a lightness in Yasha’s eyes, as though telling Beau her greatest secret in the world had lifted a weight off her shoulders. 

Before Beau could even think about getting used to the new dynamic that they’d found themselves in, the Mighty Nein had (accidentally) stolen a ship and set sail out onto the Lucidian Ocean.

It was a weird time, that also maybe sort of put the group on the path of unleashing an eldritch beast. So no biggie.

In spite of the circumstances, Beau felt freer than she had in a long time, being out on the ocean. Maybe it was because she found that she enjoyed all the things that came along with being part of a ship’s crew,  or maybe it was because the sea air was good for her, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that, for the first time since Beau had known Yasha, Yasha wasn’t running away.

Not that there was anywhere  _to_ run.

They were out on the ocean, after all. 

But they went through a lot out there; pirates, and island temples, and  creepy underwater horrors . Yasha carved through a Hydra that would have slaughtered Beau, given half the chance. It very almost  _did_ slaughter her.

That part seemed almost secondary to the Cloven Crystal, and all of that, but it was the bit that stuck with Beau.

Things were a bit hectic after that, what with killing half of Avantika’s crew, and getting Avantika herself murdered, and being banished from Darktow all within the space of what felt like about an hour, but soon they were back on their way towards  the Gravid Archipelago, and the second seal of Uk’otoa.

They found something else there. Or at the very least, Yasha did.

Beau was near fallen asleep at the wheel when she felt the first jolt of lightning. The rain was pelting down, lightning splitting the sky. She could barely see anything at all. Yasha had been dreaming, up until that point. Beau didn’t usually feel the dreams, but every now and then, when there was a strong one, those feelings seemed to transcend to the waking world. 

At first she thought she’d been struck; that some divine power had come down from the sky to smote her where she stood. Then, she saw the ball of electricity at the stern of the ship, and the dark, greatsword-wielding shadow that was fighting it.

Beau grabbed her staff, and ran, only to be pulled back by Jester. ‘Don’t,’ the tiefling said. ‘I tried to heal her, and the thing just got bigger. I think...I think it’s one of those things that she has to do alone.’

_Has to do alone_ . Well that didn’t make any sense, because Yasha wasn’t alone. She had Beau, and she had Jester, and she had the rest of the Mighty Nein.

Still, Beau stood back and watched as Yasha fought, body seizing slightly with each blow that Yasha took. Jester made to put a hand on Beau’s shoulder, to heal her, but Beau shook her head. ‘It’s not...I don’t get the damage, I just feel the pain.’ Jester knew that already, of course, but in the moment...In any case, Jester took Beau’s hand in hers, and held it as they watched. Finally –  _finally_ – Yasha thrust her hand into the core of the lightning ball, and ripped it out. 

Jester ran forward to heal, and Beau ran forward to hug. It wasn’t even something that she thought about, it just seemed like the appropriate thing to do. She was surprised, then, when Yasha hugged her back.

‘I’m going to go and get Caduceus,’ Jester said. ‘I’m out of big heals, and you still look like you could use some more.’ She ran off downstairs, leaving Beau and Yasha alone in the pouring rain.

‘Are you alright?’ It was probably a stupid question. Yasha looked like she’d been through all nine hells, and Beau had definitely felt every blow that she had taken from the lightning creature.

‘It was, ah...the Stormlord. Testing me, I think.’ Yasha was soaked in water and blood, and looked very much the worse for wear, even after Jester’s healing. ‘I had a dream - a vision – about…’ She paused. Swallowed. ‘Zuala was there. Things were burning. There was a red skinned figure with horns that I think I am supposed to recognize, but I don’t. He called me Orphanmaker.’

Beau frowned. ‘That was my tribal name,’ Yasha explained. ‘He said that...My anger was beautiful to behold. The the Stormlord told me that…’ Yasha frowned, as though trying to remember. ‘He told me that my loss would teach me what is important. Ask how many I would have to lose before I found my strength.’ A sudden look of fear crossed Yasha’s eyes, and she clutched out at Beau.

‘Hey,’ Beau said gently. ‘I’m here. I’m fine. Just maybe tell your god that you’re not the only one that’s taking the hits when he does these things.’ Beau had intended it as a joke, and had been sure she’d used the appropriate tone, but Yasha looked so forlorn, so lost, that Beau immediately felt like shit.

‘I’m sorry,’ Yasha said. Her voice sounded numb. ‘Are you...did it hurt you?’

‘It scared the shit out of me,’ Beau told her. Technically not a lie. ‘Is he the reason you have to leave all the time?’

Beau wasn’t expecting a straight answer. She was surprised, then, when Yasha said, ‘Yes.’ A pause. ‘A long time ago – not too long after Zuala died – he saved my life. I have served him ever since, and I must continue to serve him until my chains are broken.’

“Until her chains were broken” was a whole nother can of worms that Yasha didn’t want to seem to open just yet. Beau didn’t exactly blame her. That six months after Zuala’s death had apparently been an incredibly formative time in Yasha’s life, filled with many significant events.

Caduceus came, and healed, and then he and Jester sat with Yasha. Beau, back at the helm, tried not to listen in, but she couldn’t help but feel the pang from Yasha that she had come to associate with Zuala. 

They returned to land, after that, went back up north through the Wuyoun Gates to Trostenwald and beyond. Felderwin was...Felderwin was a lot, and the revelations that they made there, put them on the path to Xhorhas.

Beau couldn’t help but give Yasha a look, when they found this out. Yasha had never particularly been one to hide her feelings, but from her expression, and the knot in Beau’s chest, those feelings were complicated.

She was quiet, for a time, as they trekked through the enormous tunnel. Beau hung back to walk with her, but respected the barbarian’s need for silence. Beau found the courage to grip Yasha’s hand. She wasn’t sure how much it would help, but it at least seemed to ease the tension a little bit.

Asarius was unlike anything Beau had ever experienced before. Kamordah was not the most diverse of towns. There were humans, mostly, with a decent number of halfling and dwarves, but not a whole lot more than that. Certainly not goblins, and drow, and  gnolls . Definitely no aasimars, though, even if Yasha looked very uncomfortable. After buying their first round of drinks in the Four Corners, Beau sidled up to her.

‘Is it weird being back in Xhorhas?’

Yasha shrugged. ‘The part that I am from is much further south,’ she said. ‘Here, it does not have the same feeling.’ She didn’t say what feeling exactly, but Beau knew what she was talking about. She had the same feelings of melancholy mixed with muted nostalgia when thinking about her own home. For whatever had happened there, it was still, in a strange way, home. At least for now. ‘But, you know...that has not really been  _home_ in a long time.’

‘Where is home now?’ Beau asked, and the response she got was not what she had expected. The response was a strange, unquantifiable warmth, deep in her chest that was undeniably Yasha’s.

‘With the Mighty Nein, I suppose.’ She gave Beau a look. ‘With you.’

Beau felt a rush of warmth in her chest, and from the look on Yasha’s face, she was feeling it to. ‘Hey, ah...once things settled down a little bit, do you want to like...go on a date, or something? Hang out just the two of us?’ Beau said this all very quickly, before she could lose the courage. Yasha’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘You know what, forget it, it was a silly idea.’

‘No,’ Yasha said suddenly. She winced. ‘I mean, no it isn’t a silly idea. I would really like to be able to do that with you.’

Beau gave a grin. A nervous, butterfly-filled grin. ‘Oh. Cool. Well...I don’t know when we’ll actually get a chance to do it, but you know...I’ll let you know.’

The chance came about a week later, but only after the Mighty Nein had teleported to Rosohna, accidentally become heroes of the Dynasty, and been gifted an honest to gods house in the heart of the Firmaments district. One night, when they were all in the middle of getting the place suited to their needs, Beau pulled Caduceus to the side.

‘Can I ask you a favor?’

‘Of course,’ the firbolg said, genially. 

‘Can I, uh...borrow the tower for like, an evening? I wanted to have a picnic with Yasha up there.’ One of the first things Caduceus had done was put a big fucking tree on top of his tower, with an accompanying garden. Beau couldn’t think of a better place in Rosohna to have a first date.

‘Oh, that’s a great idea.’ Caduceus smiled. ‘Should the rest of us come? We can bring snacks.’

‘No, like a...like a _romantic_ picnic,’ Beau told him. His eyes widened a little.

‘ _Oh_ , of course,’ he said. ‘That makes sense. Sorry, I don’t always pick up on those sorts of things. But still; I can do a nice veggie dip that I’m sure is very romantic.’ Now that he said it, Beau figured it probably wasn’t a bad idea. She wasn’t sure what kind of spread she could pick up in Rosohna. Bugs and rats and spiders weren’t exactly the foods that put Beau in a seductive mood.

Rosohna was an unexpectedly beautiful city, even under the perpetual cover of darkness. Beau wasn’t sure if Caduceus was responsible for the tiny orange fireflies that flitted about the place, but she appreciated them nonetheless.

Yasha leaned back on the blanket. She seemed...at ease. There was a calmness in Beau’s chest that was mirrored by Yasha.

‘It’s funny,’ Yasha said. ‘I thought I was going to be so nervous, and I think I was to start, but...this is good. This is nice.’

It was nice. They ate their veggie dip, and cured meats, and selected fruits, and they talked about whatever topic calm into their heads. It didn’t feel like any first date that Beau had ever been on. Not that there had really been anything that she would have classified as a “date.” With Tori it had mostly just been hanging out, getting involved in nefarious situations, and having marathon evenings in the shitty rooms at the Gemmed Hearth Inn. 

This was much, much nicer.

After edging herself closer, and closer, Beau finally found the courage to curl up into Yasha’s side as they watched the fireflies buzz around the glowing glass flasks. It would have been so easy to just fall asleep here, on the picnic blanket.

‘Do you want to go somewhere a little more private?’ Yasha murmured, and Beau was very suddenly wide awake. There could be no mistaking what Yasha meant by that; if not because of her words, then because of the sudden lust that Beau felt rising in her chest. Though they hadn’t discussed exactly how the night was going to go, Beau knew that she would feel like a jerk if they did filthy things in Caduceus’s beautiful garden.

So they went downstairs to Yasha’s room, moving as quietly as possible. Beau didn’t know if Jester was awake, but the last thing they wanted was for Jester to wish them luck. It was bad enough that the two rooms shared a wall.

Beau harbored no illusions as to how loud things were going to be, but at least once they got started, Jester would probably have the good sense not to interrupt.

The mural in Yasha’s room was beautiful. Jester had well and truly outdone herself. The field of flowers looked almost real; certainly more real than any of the flowers that they had seen in Ro s ohna so far. Beau was pretty sure there was at least one dick in there.

Yasha pulled Beau to the bed, and all but threw her down onto it. Beau could hear their twin heartbeats, and she knew that Yasha could, too.

Beau had spent a lot of time thinking about what sex with a soulmate would be like, and then, after actually meeting Yasha, she was able to put a face to the body in her imagination. It brought her no small amount of glee to know that every time she got off, Yasha felt it. Even after they’d met, there had certainly been at least a few games of masturbation chicken.

Now, though…

Everything felt so intuitive, like they’d made love a hundred times. Even before Beau started feeling the rising pleasure in Yasha’s chest as she ran a hand up the aasimar’s leg, she knew that Yasha would like it, that it would make her feel good. Even still: ‘Is this okay?’

‘Yes,’ Yasha breathed.

Beau’s fingers slipped into wet heat. She could feel Yasha’s pleasure layering slowly in her chest, her arms, her whole body over. ‘Is this okay?’

‘Guh... _yes_.’

Beau leaned her head in next to her fingers. Her breath was hot, but nowhere near as hot as what was going to come next, pun absolutely intended. ‘Is this okay?’

‘ _Beau_ _._ ’ Yasha’s voice was midway between indignant and overwhelmed. ‘ _Yes_.’ It didn’t take long to bring Yasha to the edge and over it, and when she came, Beau felt that same rush of pleasure course through her own body.

‘Did you…’ Yasha was panting, trying to catch her breath. ‘Did you just give yourself an orgasm?’ Now that she said it, it seemed so obviously to be the case.

‘Oh my god,’ Beau breathed. ‘That’s going to be so much fun. Do you think you could do it, too?’

The next morning, Fjord was trying very hard to ignore both of them. Jester, on the other hand, gave Beau a wink and a thumbs up. So maybe they’d been a little louder than they’d intended. 

The weird thing was, it didn’t really feel like that much had changed. While they were very much a  _thing_ now, they had both been so protective of each other, so in tune with each others feelings, that Beau didn’t really feel like a switch had been flipped. It felt more like just a natural progression of events.

Beau would have been perfectly content to just stay at the Xhorhaus a little while longer, to navigate this new chapter in their relationship, but things rarely ever did stay stagnant around the Mighty Nein. They were on the move, heading towards whatever dark plots awaited them.

The Barbed Fields made Beau feel uneasy. Maybe it was the fact that they were following a message from someone that very clearly knew Yasha, somehow who Yasha did not even recognize. None of the rest of them recognized him either, but that didn’t really mean much.

As curious as Beau was, she would have much preferred nipping the bud of anything that looked like it might even come close to putting Yasha in danger. She should have listened to those instincts. Not even the fact that the trip brought them closer and closer together was enough to put Beau at ease.

‘I’ve seen you a lot.’ Yasha’s words made Beau’s heart sing. It wasn’t just the words, it was the feeling of love and warmth that Beau felt accompany them, love and warmth that had very much come from Yasha, rather than Beau. Were it not the final watch, Beau would have been perfectly happy to go back to bed, with Yasha wrapped around her, and judging by the smile on Yasha’s face, Yasha would have been perfectly happy with that, too.

Instead, the continued on towards Bazzoxan. The closer they got, the more Beau felt the twin balls of anxiety raising in both Beau and Yasha’s chest. Yasha, Beau knew, wanted to know who Obann was, and how he knew the Orphanmaker. Beau’s concern was largely with the need to keep Yasha safe. But, if Yasha needed answers, then Beau wasn’t going to be the one to take that away from her. 

Beau knew what it was like to be filled with self-doubt, to not know which way things were going to go next, to not know if your past was predicated on the whims and wishes of someone else.

So Beau got it, but that didn’t stop her from getting more and more frustrated as they grew closer and closer to finding the answers to the questions that might have been better off unanswered. 

Beau couldn’t have ever predicted what would have happened, even if she should have. She should have known how important Yasha was, because Yasha was the most important person to her.

‘Avenge me,’ came Obann’s dying words, and it was like Beau’s whole world was flipped on its head. There was fire, and pain, and a Yasha that wasn’t Yasha slicing through Beau’s chest like it was made of butter. The pain of the sword was nothing compared to the pain in Beau’s heart, and the fact that it was like Yasha wasn’t even there. Her own, lonely heartbeat pumped fresh blood from her wounds.

Beau was near catatonic as they ran, leaving Yasha behind. Were it not for the rest of the Mighty Nein, Beau was certain she would have fought to the last to break Yasha free from whatever fucked up mind control the dying fiend had put upon her.

Beau stayed largely silent through the conversation about what to do next. The rest of the group were discussing where they should go, what they should tell the Bright Queen. Beau clutched at her chest, and waited to feel something...anything.

There was nothing.  Yasha was gone.

‘We don’t have to talk about Y-her again,’ Beau said, when the topic of what to say about Yasha came up.

It wasn’t Yasha anymore. It was Obann’s puppet.

That night was the worst night of Beau’s life.

Worse than Zuala dying, worse than getting kicked out of home, worse even than Molly dying. Not because she felt it all. Not because she felt the pain of losing Yasha, of the fear in Yasha’s mind as Obann took her over, or because they were so far apart. It was the worst night of Beau’s life because she felt nothing at all. It was like their connection had been severed, like even the memory of Yasha had been ripped out of her, leaving only a bloody, gaping mess.

It made sense, of course. Made sense, because it wasn’t Yasha anymore. It wasn’t the person that Beau had been connected to  for almost a decade , wasn’t the person that she had, step by slow step, fallen in love with. Not that she had told Yasha that.

The first night, Beau didn’t sleep. She stayed up, keeping a watchful eye over her friends as they slept in the Ready Room. She wasn’t entirely surprised that the Mighty Nein had made an unspoken agreement to stay up with her. Jester and Fjord, for the first couple of hours, then Caleb and Nott, and finally Caduceus. There wasn’t much in the way of conversation, but their mere presence was enough to center Beau a little, if not to make her feel more than a shell of a human being.

The second night, Beau slept fitfully, and dreamed of Yasha. At least, she thought they were dreams. Dreams of an angel, trapped in a cage, unable to escape. No matter how much Beau called out, tried to reach the angel, nothing happened. It took three nights of this before Beau realized that they weren’t dreams at all, that this was actually Yasha, locked away in the puppet’s mind. Beau desperately needed to talk to her, to tell her that they were coming, that everything would be okay, but no matter how loudly she yelled, the angel remained on its knees, head in hands.

Every night, at least for a little while, Beau listened for thunder that never seemed to come. The weather was the nicest it had been in a long time, and Beau wondered if that meant that the Stormlord was busy, trying to pull his champion back from the brink of damnation.

Uthodurn was...well, it was rough. It felt like the wrong direction, like they weren’t doing every single fucking thing in their power to save Yasha. Every day, they were further and further away from where they needed to be, and every day, it hurt more and more.

Not that the Mighty Nein didn’t notice. Of course they noticed. How could they not notice? But it wasn’t as though they could do anything to help. The only thing that  _would_ help would be to save Yasha, and the only way they could do that was by killing Obann, killing the Laughing Hand, stopping whatever the fuck it was that they were planning. Caduceus thought that the answer lay in reforging the sword, in bringing a little more power to their side. Beau wasn’t entirely sure that she agreed, but she didn’t have the heart to argue about it.

At the very least reforging the sword would provide something of a distraction from the emptiness inside of her.

Reani was something else. An aasimar, like Yasha, but an aasimar with an angelic guide, an aasimar with a golden halo atop her beautiful white hair. Beau was transfixed. She wasn’t sure how much of it was her finding Reani genuinely attractive, and how much of it was her desperately missing Yasha. Probably a little bit of both.

Once upon a time, Beau would have felt a little bit bad about leading Reani on, but right now, her heart was far too broken for that to even be in consideration. She thought maybe that Reani was doing the same thing, was thinking about someone else entirely as they kissed. Her eyes were closed, at any rate, and she had no quarrel when Beau asked if Reani could take her from behind. It was easier to pretend, that way. Pretend that those gentle hands belonged to a different angel altogether. It would have been a much more effective trick, if not for the fact that Beau could only feel her own heartbeat, her own pleasure.

Beau was maybe  at least a little bit ashamed with herself when they returned to Xhorhas, and met up with Dairon.  Explaining to the Expositor (to the  _other_ Expositor, now) what was going on helped distract Beau from what was really bothering her, helped center herself against the coming storm. Not that storms had been much use lately. It had been months since she’d heard lightning, months since she’d gotten any indication that the Stormlord even knew of Yasha’s predicament, let alone was trying to help.

Were Beau feeling maybe just a little bit more self-loathing, she would have asked Caduceus for some of that special tea, would have asked Dairon to teach her how to use her ki to block that feeling of emptiness. Not that it really would have changed much; it wasn’t her soulmate’s pain that she was feeling, after all. It was the complete absence of a soulmate, which was much, much worse. Like a part of her was missing.  If she’d never met Yasha, it would have been fine. If she’d never had a soulmate, she would be able to deal with it. But to have something, and then have it taken away from her…It was so much worse. Beau lived for the nights when she would see the trapped Yasha. As much as it hurt, as much as she could do nothing, as much as those visions never changed, at least the person that she was seeing was  _Yasha_ , and not some mindless sycophant.

At the Cobalt Soul, when Beau had been angry, or frustrated, or scared, some of the instructors had talked to her about writing out her feelings, even if she didn’t want to talk about them. Beau wasn’t sure if they were trying to be helpful, or they were just trying to stop her from beating up on the other acolytes. In any case, she turned to a page at the back of her journal, and began to write. It was easier to be writing  _to_ someone, rather than just listing out the things she felt, even if she knew that Yasha  ~~ would ~~ might never read it.

_Dear Yasha_

_I miss you so much it hurts. Like a physical, tangible pain, only now, there’s no-one on the other end of it. I miss waking up in the middle of the night, and feeling you by my side. I miss the feeling of excitement when you see a flower, the feeling of contentment when you lie down to rest at night. Even though it’s new, I miss the feeling of having you wrapped around me._ ~~_I don’t know if we’re ever going to get you back, and I’m terrified of the thought of living without you—_ ~~

_I love you. I miss you. Please come back to me._

_Beau._

It didn’t really help. The only thing it really did was send Beau into a fit of tears, curled into a ball in the corner of Yasha’s room. But crying wasn’t going to help them. Wasn’t going to help Yasha, trapped in a cage with her head in her hands.

It wasn’t until Jester scried, and saw Yasha and Obann and the Laughing Hand lay waste to the Cobalt Soul that any of that changed. During the day, Beau still could not feel anything, but at night, when she slept, the angel started to move. First, the hands came away, and the hood was pulled back, and Beau could see the long, braided black and white hair, and green and purple eyes, wet with tears. Did this mean that some part of Yasha was still there? That during her sleeping hours, she was conscious, was aware of whatever was going on. Somehow, that made it all worse.

The next time Jester scried, the dreams changed again. After seeing Yasha and Obann and the Laughing Hand roaming the outskirts of Kamordah, the angel’s wings spread wide, skeletal, dark and spectral as always. Those green and purple eyes did not meet Beau’s, no matter how hard she cried out for Yasha. She longed for an agonizing pain in her chest, just to let her know that Yasha was still there.

Beau wondered if this was what it felt like when your soulmate died. She’d never known anyone that it had happened to to ask. She was still a whole person without Yasha, of course, but there was an emptiness in her heart that she had never felt before. At least not from her own emotions. It was the same kind of pain she had felt after Zuala died. Though she had never even met Zuala, the  agony , the emptiness had  drowned out any other feeling.

It was very confusing.

Maybe that was what  Yasha had felt, after the whole thing with Tori. Tori hadn’t died, of course, but that didn’t mean that Beau hadn’t felt sad, and guilty, and afraid, and all of those things after she had been dragged out of a cell by her earlobe, and backhanded in the face, and kidnapped by ninja monks. Once upon a time, Beau might have called it payback, but now she knew Yasha, and, more to the point, knew all the horrible things that Yasha had been through.

The horrible things that Yasha was going through.

Because the nights that she didn’t dream about the angel in the cage, Beau dreamed about Yasha being tortured, Yasha in pain, Yasha afraid, and Beau being unable to save her. That had nothing to do with the bond, and everything to do with the fact that it was  _Yasha_ . Yasha, who didn’t deserve any of this. Yasha, who would rather die than let any of the Mighty Nein come to harm. Yasha, who, Beau realized, she loved with every fiber of her being.

Yasha, who she half thought was lost to them forever.

That thought remained for weeks, until they arrived at the Chantry of the Dawn in Rexxentrum, ready to do whatever was necessary in order to ensure that Tharizdun was not unleashed upon the world.

Beau’s heart thumped in her chest. Whatever happened, she knew, in her heart of hearts, that today it would all be over. Either they would be able to bring Yasha back to them, or they wouldn’t. Beau had spent the last few hours coming to terms with the fact that she might never hear her soulmate’s heartbeat again.

She didn’t know what she would do if that happened. The only thing that had gotten her through these last months was the thought that she would see Yasha again, would feel that twin heartbeat. Without that promise…well, it would be rough.

When she finally did see Yasha, it wasn’t in the way that she wanted. Yasha’s beautiful, perfect eyes had nothing but malice behind them, even as she sliced through Beau’s torso.

The bloody, rusted sword plunged into Beau’s chest, and her only thought in that moment was how much this must have been hurting Yasha. The twin pain of the sword and the ache in Yasha’s heart were what wrapped around Beau and thrust her down into a sea of darkness.

Beau didn’t think she was out that long. Certainly not as long as other times that she’d been unconscious. This time, though, when she woke, she was covered in broken glass, and Yasha was cradling her close. Yasha, whose pain, and grief and heart she could feel, all mixed into one.

Yasha’s eyes were wet with tears, but they were unmistakably  _her_ eyes. No longer did Beau see cold emptiness there. ‘Hey,’ Beau murmured. It felt like such a stupid thing to say, after everything that had happened, but it was important that Yasha know that nothing had changed. That no matter what Yasha had done under Obann’s influence, Beau loved her just the same. ‘You’re back.’

Yasha was seemingly lost for words, so overcome with grief, with guilt, all of which overflowed in Beau like a geyser. For the first time in so long, Yasha was there, inside of her. Two hearts beating.

Yasha helped Beau to her feet, and they joined the rest of the Mighty Nein sans Nott being the door that led down beneath the cathedral. They sat and took a breather, drinking health potions even as Caleb barricaded the door.

Things were bad. Things were very, very bad, and yet the fact that Beau had Yasha at her side almost made her feel like she could take on the world. Even still, Beau would be glad when the day was finally over.

It was...it was a fucking slog. 

Beau felt the rush of retribution as Yasha pulled the wings from Obann’s body, and she wasn’t sure which of them it belonged to. The feeling didn’t last long, as from the fiend’s corpse arose a much greater, much more terrible, damned creature.

Beau managed a few cursory hits on the creature before it struck at her with its necrotic tentacles. The last thing Beau felt before darkness took her once more, was somebody else’s fear.

For the second time in as many hours, Beau woke up in Yasha’s arms. Every single member of the Mighty Nein bar none were covered in blood, and gore, and ichor, and the Inevitable End barely gave them a nod before making her exit through the floor once more.

Beau would have been perfectly to content to just fall asleep there in Yasha’s arms, but that was apparently not an option. Before Beau could even ask, Yasha had picked her up in what Beau definitely would have described as a bridal carry. Definitely something to bring up later.

The main feeling that seemed to em a nate from Yasha, though, was relief. Relief that Beau was alright, that things hadn’t gone worse than they did. There was also an underlying vein of guilt that seemed to pulse with every step they took, but Beau was so fucking exhausted that her own feelings were getting a little muddled in there, too.

The rest of the day was exhausting for different reasons. Though after they’d reached the main floor of the Cathedral, Yasha had put Beau down, she had then grasped Beau’s hand in hers, and gripped it tightly. They’d stayed like that, holding hands, until the throne room of King Dwendal, whereupon Beau was called forward by Yudala Fon to have audience with the king. While Beau’s heart was beating a million times a minute, Yasha’s pride burst through the fear like a ray of light. Beau felt stronger.  Trent Ikithon reared his head, and they both felt rage.

They retreated to the Camarouth Cottage, where rooms were waiting for them. Beau arranged for a hot bath for Yasha, and helped her wash months’ worth of grime and gore from her body. As she did, she felt that pang of guilt once more. It took Beau longer than she was proud of to realize why; the enormous scar that spanned from between  Beau’s breasts to just above her belly button was not easy to ignore.

‘It’s fine,’ Beau said quietly. ‘I’m fine.’ Yasha didn’t seem convinced. She didn’t need to say a single thing for Beau to know that. Yasha did not leave her side even as they went down to dinner. Beau ate enough to sate several people, and probably could have eaten even more, were it not for the look in Yasha’s eyes.

‘I think I might go to bed,’ Yasha said, softly. ‘It has been a long time since I have slept in a real one.’ She hesitated, giving Beau a look. Beau knew what the question was, without even having to ask.

‘I’ll come with you,’ she said. In any case, if she stayed up much longer, she was probably going to pass out at the table. That probably would have put a bit of a damper on the evening.

They’d had seven rooms booked for them, but really, they only needed six. There wasn’t even a question of it, as Beau followed Yasha into the last room at the end of the hall. All of their day clothes had already been sent for washing, so they didn’t even need to get changed before climbing into bed.

Beau didn’t wait. She wanted nothing more to be under the covers with Yasha, and for this day to just. Be. Over.

Yasha was clearly still hesitant. Even after Beau held out a hand, and pulled her into the bed, she seemed to be second guessing herself. It didn’t take a genius (or a soulmate) to figure out why. 

‘I am so sorry,’ Yasha said, when they were finally face to face under the covers. She was crying again, and Beau could feel the pain both in her voice and in her heart. ‘I did not know what I was doing.’

‘I know.’ The words did not seem to provide any comfort. ‘Do you feel that?’ Beau took Yasha’s hand, and put it against her heart. Even in their closeness, she could feel that twin beating, that indication that Yasha was thinking of her. She gave a soft smile. ‘Two heartbeats. That’s what tells you I’m alive. I’m fine. It wasn’t you that hurt me, you were trapped in a cage.’

‘I think...while I was sleeping, I was there, but all the other times...I could not break free.’

Beau squeezed Yasha’s hand. ‘For the longest time while you were gone, I couldn’t feel a thing, because it wasn’t you.’

Weirdly, that was the thing that helped. Yasha gave Beau such a forlorn look that Beau’s heart broke all over again. ‘You didn’t feel it?’

‘Not a thing.’

Yasha breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Beau could only imagine the sort of things she was worried that Beau might have felt, but Beau found that she didn’t need to know. Not unless Yasha wanted to talk about it.

‘While I was...locked away in there.’ Yasha touched the side of her head. ‘Every time he took me somewhere that made me think of you, it pulled me closer and closer to myself.’

‘I—’ Beau wondered if it would be cliché to say that she knew. That _that_ she had felt. That she had seen it in her waking dreams, the angel trapped in a cage, raging to break free. ‘You did everything you could. You are a survivor.’

‘That is one way to put it.’

‘Hey.’ Beau brought Yasha’s hand to her lips, and pressed a kiss to the aasimar’s knuckles. ‘I love you.’

Yasha’s arms wrapped around her, for the first time in what felt like months. Their fingers intertwined, and Yasha’s chin rested against Beau’s head. ‘I love you, too.’

When Beau closed her eyes, she could feel two hearts beating.


End file.
